


Night and Day

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood, Humiliation, Kink, M/M, Mind Control, OOC, Vampires, blood-sucking, bond!fic, dark!fic, dub-con, enslavement, evil!Merlin, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur awakens in Dracula's bed. In the light of day, Arthur knows he must try to get a letter home to London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night and Day

**Author's Note:**

> Folks, Dracula is not a nice guy. I’ve added a “dark!fic” warning as well as “evil!Merlin.” I’m sorry that I didn’t do that before. Usually, the whole idea about vampires is that they overcome their victims and make them want them. I'm not writing Twilight, and if I have to spend too much time trying to justify Merlin's actions or what is Arthur’s actual want/love for him and what is caused by the bites, it isn’t going to be any fun for me to write. Think of this as a kink!fic with a bit of plot rather than a romance. Don’t read if you’re expecting Arthur to knock the shit out of Merlin or the two of them to fall in love and Dracula to suddenly become a good person. He’s the undead, for fuck’s sake.

 

 

 

Arthur slowly awoke, his eyes fluttering open, sleep-blurred vision gradually taking in the strange surroundings.

He wasn’t in his own room; the crimson sheets and white curtains surrounding the mahogany bed told him he was in Count Dracula’s bed chamber. Another moment of adjustment, and Arthur realised that was not alone.

Arthur turned his head to see the Count looking down upon him, a smile of--Arthur wasn’t sure what--on his handsome face. Arthur found he could not look away from the azure eyes surrounded by dark lashes.

“Awake at last, my angel?” the Count ran his fingers through Arthur’s fringe.

Arthur could only nod and swallow, his throat dry. Dracula leaned down and kissed each of Arthur’s eyes, then his nose, and then each corner of his mouth before moving to take him in a fearsome kiss that drove all thought from Arthur’s mind for long, tortuous moments.

When Arthur realised the Count was as naked as Arthur was, Arthur’s already stirring cock rose to full stiffness, the bite marks on its underside throbbing with every beat of his heart. His neck ached, and Arthur found himself breaking the kiss to bare it to Dracula.

Dracula ran his nose along Arthur’s throat, breathing in before moving to sink his two sharp teeth into the skin. The bite brought a surge of ecstasy and a burst of cum from Arthur’s cock; and he moaned, arching up off the bed. The Count drank from Arthur with long sucks that both drained Arthur of energy and filled him with an aching need.

“Please…Arthur murmured.

Without releasing his hold on Arthur’s neck, Dracula moved over him; and Arthur wantonly spread his legs, lifting his pelvis up invitingly. In one swift move, the Count breached Arthur’s furled hole, and Arthur cried out, body instinctively moving away from the terrible burn, but the hold Dracula had on Arthur’s neck prevented Arthur from avoiding the full impalement.

Arthur was dry, and it hurt. He reached down and ran his hand through his own release, and when the Count pulled out for another thrust, Arthur spread his juices over Dracula’s huge cock to ease the way.

The Count seemed to approve of this, as he then settled upon Arthur, drinking from Arthur’s neck and smoothly thrusting his hips, fucking Arthur shallowly. Arthur’s moans reverberated through the room. Having Dracula take him like this was heady and something Arthur sometimes wondered if he needed. It seemed forever until the Count had slaked his thirst for blood and released Arthur’s neck, which ached with residual tingles.

Dracula looked into Arthur’s eyes as he rose up on his arms and began to thrust harder, moving Arthur up the bed with every surge into his body. Sensation built to an almost intolerable point, and Arthur tore at the sheets with his hands.

“You’re mine, angel,” the Count said clearly, blood shining on his lips. Arthur’s blood. “I have ensured it.”

Enraptured both by Dracula’s words and pure, stark desire, Arthur reached up and grasped the Count’s biceps, lifting and pushing his arse in counterpoint to the thrusts. The Count groaned and drove in harder.

Arthur came seconds before Dracula, orgasm moving through his body like wildfire, and they lay pressed together, breathing hard.

“In five thousand years, I never thought I’d find you,” Dracula murmured before drifting off to sleep.

After a few moments rest, Arthur rose from the bed and cleaned himself. He wasn’t tired, and Dracula seemed to be sleeping soundly. Looking around, he found a cape to cover himself before exiting and moving down the passageway, looking for the stair well. Arthur sensed that they were at the uppermost part of the castle. He validated that by looking out one of the thin windows and seeing the courtyard very far below. From this vantage point, Arthur could see for miles—the majestic Carpathian mountains and the valleys beyond. The sun just peeked over the horizon, and Arthur watched it for a moment before continuing along the corridor.

For the first time, Arthur took note of the tapestries that hung on most of the walls. Colourful and masterfully crafted, they seemed to depict various stories. He paused before one that displayed a pack of wolves in the forest confronting a group of huntsmen. The wolves surround the huntsmen, killing all but one—a man who stood out for his bright, blond hair.

The wolves take the huntsmen with them.

A noise from the opposite end of the corridor brings Arthur’s attention away from the tapestry. He automatically stiffens and steps back, thinking of Cenred. The odd torture he experienced at the man’s hands hovered at the back of Arthur’s brain, the mists that encompassed it that morning slowly burning away with the daylight.

It was Yvette, not Cenred, who appeared in the hallway, dressed in sheer white as she had been the first time he saw her. She held up a hand, but Arthur shook his head.

“Tell him we are hungry,” Yvette said before her eyes lifted to the window, now bright with the morning sun. Quickly, she slipped back through the door from which she came.

Arthur shuddered. Deciding it would be prudent to get back to his room as soon as possible, he left the tapestry and hurried down the hall. Around the corner he finally found the stairwell and hurried down. His room was cold. He dressed, then prepared to shave without a mirror. When Arthur reached up to feel his face, he was surprised to find that he not require it—he had not grown any new whiskers. Frowning, he stood rubbing his chin and cheeks for a long time before a noise outside drew his attention.

Moving to the window, Arthur looked out. Cenred and another man stood in the far corner of the courtyard. They appeared to be arguing. The stranger threw down the shovel he held and stalked off. Cenred raised his head and his eyes suddenly met Arthur’s. Arthur quickly moved away and sat down at the desk.

Arthur got out paper and pen and composed another letter to his fiancée, hoping that this time he could find a way to get it in the mail. In the letter, he assured her that he was well in body, but that recent odd occurrences had him fearing for his life. Arthur dipped his pen in the inkwell and paused over the parchment, thinking. A part of him was well aware of what he’d done hours before. Done and enjoyed. At the same time, in the light of day, Arthur was also aware that he had to get away from this place. With determination, he penned to his fiancée that he needed help. She was to tell Gaius immediately.

After signing the letter, Arthur closed it up and sealed it with wax and his ring.

Now to find a way to get it to London.


End file.
